The Rules of Aristocracy
by girl.of.horror
Summary: It's complicated. And Ichigo's just...well, confused. And Rukia's not giving her answers. /ichiruki/ AU/ Historical  set in 18th century
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach because I am not Tite Kubo.

Summary: She was the new maid and he was the butler. Sort of.

Their ages are mostly in the 20's. I wish I portrayed them as they would when they are mature [enough].

N/A:

I wanted to change the names and I would have but for so that they would be easily recognized, I dumped that urge. Set in the 18th century so a little trivia for you all; a pocket is bag-like that is not sewn into the clothing, rather they are to be tied around the waist, worn over or under the petticoats; a slit would be made in the gown so one could reach into the pocket.

* * *

**Chapter 1.**

She had to stop and re-think her strategy. If she wanted to finish dusting all of the furniture on the second floor for the day, then the tiny feather duster would have to be improved.

She stood up and straightened, patting her skirt hard enough to send the dust that managed to cling on it flying off; she frowned, the other maids were not doing their jobs well enough for there was dust on her uniform. And this uniform was new! She was appalled and yet, she had no heart to tell Orihime that she did not deserve the florins she received as wages for she had seen how hard the maid cleaned the soft carpet just a few minutes ago. On second thought, she might have gotten the dust on her way here to the Sun Room.

Indeed, thinking of Orihime gave her an idea to her predicament. She turned around, took a deep breath and used her charm on the other maid with her.

"Orihime, will you please come here for a second," the sad look she plastered on her face did her proud when she saw the big-breasted woman approach hastily to check upon her.

"Why, Rukia, is something the matter?" the young woman eyed her with concern apparent in the soft brown eyes. She coughed a bit, and managed to look defeated, "I can't reach the other furnishings. I'm too short."

"Oh, is that so?" Orihime took the feather duster from her hand and placed a small rug on her hand, "Here, Rukia, let's change places. I'll finish dusting the furniture and you give those windows a shine. Do not worry about how high they are. I always did start wiping them from the top anyway."

Hiding the delight she felt under the pretense of brushing off an errant tear of gratefulness, she thanked Orihime and made her way to the tall glass windows. Somewhere in the background, she heard Orihime telling her to go straight to the kitchen and fetch herself a glass of milk somehow after her chores.

"I fancy you look rather pale today, Rukia-chan. Has Kurosaki been giving you too much work?"

An eyebrow went up at the unexpected question. And speak of the Devil, there was the orange-haired man appearing at her view right between her swipes of best effort to shine the glass. "I don't think so, Orihime." _But he would want to, don't doubt it for a second. _She sent a glare to the direction of the man currently discussing something with the gardener.

"Well, maybe I'd talk to him later for you. You know he is so kind, and he is just taking over some of the housekeeper's work because she is somewhat old and can be quite forgetful that is why he has placed on himself the responsibility of hiring new help from time to time and assigning the jobs…."

Her ability to listen to Orihime's musings was lost at some point. Ichigo was now scowling at her general discussion. The little bit of annoyance that bloomed in her heart heated her efforts to make the glass look extra-shiny.

Six months of this has not been enough to make her forget why she has to keep doing this and why she is relying on the good nature of someone like Ichigo. For her, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make and feeling grateful to him was troubling and disconcerting. Those six months might have gone without a hitch (well, except for the times of her adjustment where she was really clumsy but that has come to pass now) but the danger was still as present as ever. Right now, this sprawling medium-sized manor of a country Baron might not be enough and she might have to move on.

No, actually, she should have moved on months ago. Staying too long in one place wasn't going to do any good, but it just felt like what she needed.

With renewed vigor, she started attacking the glass windows until the glare from the sun's early morning rays made her squint her eyes, and therefore, lessened the scope of her vision; the bright crop of orange hair was annoyingly standing out in the green scenery of the gardens though that no amount of squinting and sunlight erased it from her sight.

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ

Ichigo realized he must be scowling enough to scare a lion upon clearly seeing the wary expression on the gardener's face. He fought back the urge to sigh and tried to soften his expression but it was no use for the man stopped in his discussion on the possible improvements that could be done to liven up the garden for the coming of spring. It might be better to finish off the conversation and make the man continue breathing. He did look like he was holding his breath.

"Right. So jot down everything that you told me, and some more of what could be done, Jenkins. You know how the Baron likes to pretty up the place." He patted the man on the back and continued his way back to the manor.

His hands were sweating and itching within his white gloves but he ignored the urge to take them off as he inspected every window he could see on the short walk to the front door. Mentally, he took note of what should be accomplished by now; all rooms should have been done being cleaned by the maids, beds made, all furniture without a hint of dust, and…

The Dining Room!

He bolted straight into a run to head for the kitchen. It was undignified to run, definitely not benefitting a stoic butler as he should be but the Dining Room had to be prepared and several dishes made for the Baron was to return today before lunch. As of now, he was sure he only had few hours, three or four hours at most to have everything done and preserve his job. The Baron could be a big headache at times like these.

The cook was begrudgingly writing down his orders for lunch as he looked around the kitchen. There were five children chopping spices and vegetables, and the older ones were set to keeping the fire, cleaning the fish and doing other menial jobs. Everything was in order. Without any mishaps, he just might be able to pull this off.

"If it was not for you, Kurosaki, we would have been in trouble."

His mouth twitched a bit in a smile at the off-handed praise the rather large and bulky cook threw at him without a moment's notice.

"Is that a compliment, Tessai?"

"It is not. Why would I praise you? But it's not your job. It's Ms. Nellie's. Where is the old bat anyway?"

He shrugged. "I imagine she is nursing the plants in the greenhouse. Are you lacking in anything here in the kitchen?"

He saw the cook's dark eyes widen in appreciation. "Mighty good of you to ask! I was just thinking of telling the errand boys to go get several but I kept forgetting these past few days. You could easily get these in the village." A large, callused hand handed him a soot-covered piece of parchment. Good, that saves him time from inspecting the store room.

After clearing everything in the kitchen and getting assurances of a finely-cooked meal for the Baron's arrival, he exited the kitchen and marched up the stairs to the Sun Room. Some giggling maids he passed paused to give him a greeting, and he absent-mindedly greeted them in return. He finally located the Sun Room and burst through the door without any preamble.

"Rukia, Orihime, still not done?" The gruff in his voice was clearly audible. They weren't severely lacking in maids but Orihime was the only person he can trust Rukia not to rile up. For some reason, they got along amazingly well. He wasn't surprised that much, Orihime was just the sort of person to whom everyone seem to feel affinity. The other servants seem to steer clear Rukia, for some uncertain reason.

"Ah…well…" Orihime started to stutter and he felt his mood darken when he saw her dusting the furniture and Rukia wiping the windows to a shining perfection. That was clearly not what he had told them before.

He directed his scowl at Rukia who looked back at him with as much gumption. "That's quite alright Orihime, please finish your job and call someone else to help you. Someone ought to be finished with their job right now. Rukia, follow me."

"But I'm not yet done," her tone suggested she was probably gritting her teeth.

"Follow me. Now."

With as much dignity as one wearing a maid's uniform and a light smudge of dust on one's face could have, she rose to her feet and started to approach him. He heard Orihime say a goodbye and see you later to Rukia and stepped back out of the room.

Shegot out of the room and looked at him. For several moments they stood there together. He then belatedly realized that she expected him to close the door. A sly chuckle went out of his mouth and Rukia looked at him questioningly, albeit, a little irritated. In a low voice, he asked her, "Do you expect me to close the door for you?"

A slight blush came to rest high on her cheeks as she realized that she actually did until he implied the obvious: _she was just a maid and maids don't have men to close their doors for them_. She mentally berated herself for her mistakes, cursing old habits that die hard and closed the door slowly and quietly while she willed her composure back.

He handed her a piece of parchment as soon as the door was closed. She took it and quickly skimmed over its contents.

"You have to go the village and get me those. We are almost running out of some supplies for the kitchen, so the cook tells me."

Rukia eyed the various items and narrowed her eyes. "Ichigo, how do you expect me to carry all of these? Will you lend me a carriage or a horse perhaps?" There were a lot of items she needed to buy and even was she dreaming, she couldn't quite possibly take all of these in one trip by hand, and on foot.

He looked at her as if she was out of her mind. "Of course not, some of those items are available at Chad's store so you can simply tell him to help you. I've been meaning to talk to him, it would be convenient for him to be coming here since I could barely leave my job here at the manor."

She merely nodded, placed the parchment into the pocket of her apron and walked off without another word. In truth, she had gone to the village a number of times for the past few months and quite knew the way but she had never gone there alone before. Still, maybe she could bribe one of the footmen or stable boys to accompany her just in case, after all, old habits do die hard and ladies are never meant to go anywhere outside alone. With that decided, she trudged on determinedly and felt comfort at the weight of her pocket containing a few of her jewelry and coins.

Ichigo stared at Rukia as she determinedly walked away from him. Maybe he should have told her that he had already ordered a stable boy to accompany her on her way to the village…but then he decided against calling her back, she could be obstinate so she would probably scoff at the idea. Let her worry for a while. He knew she was a bit unsure of going to the village alone.

The quiet screech of the door opening beside him almost caught him in surprise as he stared at Orihime's head. Nonchalantly, he thought the door needed its hinges oiled.

"Who was that lady you were talking to, Kurosaki-kun?"

He opened his mouth to answer then closed it again. Orihime appeared not to notice as she continued, "I thought His Lordship was back with a Lady. You did mention he would be back today."

"Well, not before noon at the earliest. You probably heard Rukia's voice muffled by the door." He hit the door with his fist to emphasize his point, "It's rather thick."

"Oh. It sounded very much like a Lady's." She actually looked disappointed and a suspicion made itself known in his mind. "Although, what an amazing door to be able to do that."

Nodding his head in absent-minded assent, he left Orihime to check on other parts of the manor. Silently, he began to replay the events of the first time he saw Rukia over and over again in his mind just as he had countless number of times already. It was an amazing stroke of coincidence, luck or whatever you might want to call it that they met. Never in his wildest imagination could he have thought he would meet someone like her.

He lifted a gloved hand through his loudly, orange hair. The worries were never far away and he wasn't even sure what it was that he was worrying about. Almost desperately, he thought of Chad and the favor he had asked his friend to do. "Bloody hell," he cursed the empty air and his impatience.

It must have been almost six months ago, yet that memory stayed clear in his mind…

'_What a bother', he thought as he sat down on the too short bed that came along with the rented room. His height of a little over 6 feet certainly made sure that almost half of his leg would be hanging by the bed's edge and scraping on the floor. In truth, sleeping on the dirty floor actually seemed quite feasible. All that needed to be done was that he placed his coat over the floor. He preferred that than to having to decide whether to sleep curled like a newborn baby versus hanging half of his legs over the short bed just to get a goodnight's sleep._

_When he sat down on the bed, he groaned in defeat as he felt the lumps of the bed on his bum bruised from several days of nonstop travelling on the back of a horse. He released several days of frustration in a long, loud breath. He was even hungrier now to boost and yet, he had tasks that needed to be done in a jiffy. _

_Such as seeing his sisters and paying for their school and several other things. _

_He stood up none too slowly and bent over when a single hiss of pain traveled across his lower back. He really needed a rest. And a long, good bath._

_A single glance at the window told him there was only one or two hours before evening fell so he comforted himself that he needed a whole day to accomplish what he came here for so why not put it off until tomorrow? Now, the only decision left was to order a bath or to take a rest on the floor._

_Taking a long dip in a bathtub won over the rest._

_Moments passed in silence as he surveyed the small room. It was going to take the innkeeper a long time to bring him his desired dip in warm water so he might as well make use of the time to check on the money he brought. The small table near the bed caught his eye and he made a beeline towards it. Setting his rather heavy bag on it, he took the chair near the window and dragged it to the table where he promptly sat and started accounting for his monies. _

_He was nearly absorbed into his little activity when a groan echoed in the room. He sat up straight and looked around for he was damn sure that wasn't him. The rustling of clothes, the sound too soft to hear if he wasn't paying attention, soon followed._

_Ichigo jumped to his feet, held his hands behind his back and walking softly, surveyed the room. On other occasions, he might have an idea what groaning/moaning and the rustling of clothes might mean but he wasn't renting a room in some sleazy red light district so that sound was definitely not because of it. Also, the sound seemed close, almost as if they shared the same room._

_His gaze fell on an old, wooden closet in the corner. It was just big enough for a kid to fit in and there were nothing else in the room that was big enough for someone to hide. Contemplating if he should surprise the intruder or would be thief, he scratched his head and went back to returning his money in the bag. The intruder could be no more than a kid, and even if a knife was brought, he was still bigger and more powerful. _

_A knock on the door interrupted his musings and a small smile inadvertently appeared on his face. Finally, the bath had arrived so the intruder would have to wait a little more time in that cramped closet for their reckoning. He opened the door and two lads came in bringing a huge wooden tub and promptly went down the stairs to fetch some water, the innkeeper's wife trailed in behind them bringing a pail of warm water then dumped it into the tub._

_Soon, the tub was almost half-full with warm water and he thanked the old woman. Stripping himself of every article of clothing, he eased himself unto the water and sighed on the pleasure of being clean. He could definitely doze off like this even with his knees folded so. But not just yet. He picked up the soap he had brought himself, it was one of the scented soaps his sister Yuzu had made for the family, and it wasn't as coarse or as rough as inns tend to provide._

_Lavishly, the bubbles covered almost every inch of his body although he tried to work as quietly as possible and make unnoticeable little splashes in the water. He had already told the innkeeper's wife for dinner to be brought up at seven and to make it for two. She had not batted an eye at that strange request. _

_Sleep was already beckoning his eyes to close and he welcomed it, thinking he can have a few minutes to spare for a little rest. _

_The water had gone cold when he snapped out of his stolen rest because of a heavy feeling on his crotch. The sun had gone down and when he opened his eyes, the small ray of light provided by the lone candle he had set on the table was enough for him to see that someone else was in the room. And that particular someone was already halfway out the room's only window._

_Water splashed around him and onto the floor as he quickly rose to his feet. A small towel fell to his feet and he recognized it as the cause of that heavy feeling in his crotch. He wondered why the intruder would even think about modesty in such a situation._

_Noticing that half of the intruder had gone outside the window, he quickly caught the would-be thief around the waist and felt the soft quality of satin and velvet. His recognition of expensive cloths raised his suspicion a notch. _

"_Awww!" The little shite was hitting him on the head with curled fists. _

"_Stop it! You-!"_

"_Unhand me, you bastard! Now!"_

_If he had any doubts on 'its' gender, all of that had just gone out the window, as a matter of fact. _

_Out of anger, he dangled the little miss over twenty feet from the ground. That effectively stopped the hitting and started on the muted screaming. "D-do not let me go! You hear that! Do not let me go!"_

_The hands holding on to his wrists were soft, and delicate. For someone who knew of hard work all his life, it was apparent that those hands were the hands of someone who've had others under her beck and call. And there was the subject of her fine speech, perceptible even with her muted shouting._

"_Then tell me, brat, just what were you doing in this room?" The hands tightened and for a minute, he thought he saw the brat's face but the candlelight was too weak and there was no moon in the sky. It was just too dark. "Go on", he dangled her several times again, she was light enough that it was easy for him to do but not for a long time, "my hands are getting tired, you know. And it's a long way down."_

_He thought he heard her swallow but then he heard her speak clearly, "Alright, promise not to let me go. Then I'll tell you."_

_He grunted a reply then slowly took her inside the room. As her feet touched the wooden floor, he remembered he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing and it seemed like she finally noticed it too when her hand shot off his shoulders like she was scalded._

"_You reprobate! Put some clothing on! Immediately!" _

_The girl turned her back on him and he could clearly see her long dark hair. _

"_Alright, I'm dressing up."_

_He quickly grabbed his breeches, and buttoned it up. That seemed acceptable enough. While he tried to dry his hair before the cold air started to freeze his brain, he stared at his dilemma. She was short, she would barely reach his chest and her height told him she was probably really young. Her long, dark locks that followed her impatient movements shone in the flickering candlelight. His eyes fell on the rich clothing. He have seen enough dresses to know which were made out of fine quality cloth. And hers was made out of silk with a full skirt and lots of tiny bows and ribbon that eventually highlighted the narrow waist. If it was sold at just the right price, someone could live comfortably off for a year or more._

_Whoever this girl was, she would bring nothing but trouble. The circumstances were strange and he was certain they would get stranger before the night was done._

"_Alright, I'm decent."_

_He stepped forward and she stepped back to turn her face upwards and looked at him straight in the eye. Her calm face belied the sting of her next words, "Are you a savage?"_

_Dumbfounded, he stared at her blankly. "What?"_

"_I heard of men who like to strut around with their bare chests. They're savages. I will not be talking to you any more than I already am in your state of undress."_

"_What a bother…I probably should just call the authorities– "_

"_No! Just put on your shirt and I'll be fine."_

_He knew he shouldn't follow this midget but he bent to retrieve his shirt from where he hung it on the chair, then the midget's voice broke through his thoughts, "-oh, and how about some stockings, while you're at it? That, I think, would be much more acceptable."_

_Irritated, he threw a sharp look at her. "Fine, no stockings but your boots will have to do so put them on."_

"_You talk too much brat," tucking the shirt under his breech while slipping his feet into his boots, he asked, "why aren't you escaping?"_

_She fixed him with a glare, "Didn't you want to hand me over to the authorities? Or am I mistaken? Because I am willing to take a risk falling from the window of a two-storey inn." _

_Somewhere, a volcano exploded with the same intensity as Ichigo's temper. He took deep breaths before settling his sight on the midget again. The girl's cheekiness was slowly getting to him. To be sure, he had never been this annoyed for as long as he can remember since few people tried to cross with him after seeing his 'scary face always set in a scowl' (the village's gossipmonger's words, not his). It was no surprise that the first words out of his mouth were nothing short of an insult._

"_You cheeky brat", he approached her and instead of backing down, she stared at him eye-to-eye, "I have half of a mind to throw you out and call the authorities, but I have a feeling that's the wrong thing to do, so better tell me why you are here in this room that I rented and am kindly being hospitable. Do, please, tell me."_

_There was no hesitation as she answered, "I ran away," she straightened an errant ribbon on her dress, "from home". _

"_And why did you run away, brat?"_

"_Don't call me a brat. I…I just had to. If I didn't run away, my - a very important person to me could be sent to prison and I just can't allow that!"_

"_I'll call you whatever the hell I want to! And," he gave a very sound stress on that, " I find it hard to believe you."_

"_That's the truth!" to emphasize her point, she slammed her right hand on the table causing the candle to sway precariously on it. _

"_Then that's more the reason why you should just go to the authorities! Judging from your clothes, you're probably nobility or something though hell if I care-"_

"_I'm not."_

"_What?"_

"_I'm not…nobility. I'm just a merchant's daughter." He saw her release a pent-up breath, and straighten to her full height which wasn't very impressive, mind you, but it did give off an air that she was looking down on you at her nose._

"_Okay, I amend my earlier statement, an extremely wealthy merchant's daughter," he knew quality when he saw one and maybe she was just a merchant's daughter even when her features could blend in well with nobility, "however, you should still go to the authorities and not run away. Stupid."_

_The midget raised an elegant eyebrow at him, "Believe me, I'm much smarter than I look and if I deemed it prudent for authorities to handle my predicament, I would have done so but this is out of their reach now."_

"_What's so big with your problem? Anyway, your family would have hired Street Runners after you so-"_

"_And that is the reason why you found me in a closet in this room."_

"_What? Street Runners? Street Runners actually running after you brat?"_

_Feeling amused and annoyed at the same time, he chuckled to himself and placed both hands on his hips. _

_He spared a single glance at his unwanted guest and got a glare as she fairly shouted, "That would be the last time you'd be calling me brat, carrot top!"_

_Distinctly, he might have felt himself pop a vein, he haven't been called that ever since he punched the living daylights out of the last person who ever called him that when he was a kid. "A brat is a brat! How old are you anyway? You must be ten at that height!"_

"_YOU! You dull giant! I'm nineteen and certainly old enough to know a-"_

_A knock and a voice calling out, "Mr. Kurosaki, your dinner" at the door interrupted their verbal spar._

_Surprised at the unexpected visitor, they looked at each with wide eyes. Ichigo recovered first and quickly carried a flailing midget under his arm (the flounces of her skirt and petticoats nearly tripping him twice) on the short distance to the closet where he then proceeded to shove her unceremoniously back inside it. With that accomplished, he proceeded to open the door and met the curious eyes of the young girl bringing a single tray of food._

_With palpable curiosity, the maid asked, "I heard rushed whispers while I stood outside on your room knocking, there a problem?"_

"_No problem, and I ordered that there be food sufficient for two persons to be brought in; that doesn't look filling enough for one, let alone two."_

_The young maid actually looked like she was a fish out of water with his unexpected question. Inwardly, he sighed._

_Settling his scowl a little deeper and a little darker, he opened the door wide and the young girl walked in, all the while casting nervous, prying glances around the room. His nervous heart pounded a beat in his chest at every step the young girl took as she placed the trays on the little table and lighted a new candle as the old one was a few minutes away from puttering out; she also checked the lantern set across the room, right near the closet. Almost bulging out of his sockets, his eyes widened in shock as he spotted a teeny, tiny bow peeking out of under the closet's doors. _

_It took a while for him to register that the young maid had turned around and just as suddenly grabbed his duffle bag – the duffle bag which contained the hard-earned money for his sisters' education - and had dashed out of the door before he, too, made a mad dash to run after her down the stairs. Scaring the people eating and drinking in the first floor of the inn, he followed the _real _thief out unto the street where the yellow lights of the lamp posts guided his sights to the maid. Once again, he thanked the good Lord for gifting him with speed and long legs but as he was about to have his hands on the thief, a small, heeled foot tripped the young maid._

_Being only a few steps away from the two, in a long stride he was already reaching for the young maid who, of course, was a young girl barely out of her childhood. He felt pity for her, and felt sadness at the thought of such young hands committing a crime like stealing. _

"_Ow! That actually hurt!" That annoying midget. The loud voice brought him out of his reverie and his head snapped to the owner of said loud, voice who was nursing her wounded ankle by leaning on her good side. It also distracted him from completely noticing the faint glitter of the knife the young maid held in her hands._

_He would have told her to shut it for they were attracting unnecessary attention, damn, several passer-bys had already expressed their dismay quite loudly over the small crowd that had gathered around them if not for the attempted knife attack that caused him to loosen his hold on the young maid to protect himself. Of course, the young maid used that to her advantage and easily freed herself._

"_Dammit!" He cursed and easing out of the crowd made another wild dash to run after his stolen duffle bag containing every piece of hard-earned money that he intended to give to his sisters. But the thief was smaller and nimbler and was much more able to blend into the crowd. He managed to follow her in a run but as he ran after her through several turns and alleys, he soon lost her in a thickening mass of men and women going about their business in the early evening. Ichigo mumbled an apology when a small boy collided with him in his run for a sight of the thief but he soon decided it was over when he ran into a dead end. _

_He let out a string of curses that would have made a seasoned pirate blush to his toes several times. He cursed the onlookers more for not attempting to help him in any way. _

_Anger flaring inside of him, he walked on the familiar road back to the inn where he barged into the door. The loud slam of the door banging open announced his arrival and startled the other tenants along with the innkeeper and his wife. Angry, he walked closer to them with the intent of telling them how sloppy they could have been that a thief had slipped into their help and everything else he could say when he put his mind to it, never mind that there could be words he'd later regret. He traveled many miles not to be thieved!_

_But before he could do so, a small, unfamiliar hand had effectively stopped him in his tracks. When he looked at the owner of those hands, he saw the black-haired girl much clearer with the multitude of lanterns and candles lighting the small lobby of the inn. Disgust briefly painted his face as he saw too, the rich trappings of said girl, who looked fairly more indecent than him with her long, black hair left untied and flowing freely down her back, and truth be told, her fair skin fairly lighted up. To hell with how they looked, he was almost undressed without his stockings, his cravat and greatcoat, and her ungloved hands, unkempt hair and disheveled gown; on other days he would have jumped in denial immediately at the picture they presented yet the situation this time was fairly pressing and definitely more important than his (or her) reputation._

"_What are you doin-?"_

"_I've already handled this," she said and his narrowed eyes alighted upon the innkeeper and his wife whose faces were filled with worry and concern, he closed his mouth to listen to the rest of what the girl would say, "no one knew the thief, apparently, no one have noticed her snuck into the kitchen and the innkeeper is willing to let us stay for how long we would have wanted, meals free, and are also lending a horse if you would want. They are really sorry."_

_His clenched fists fell to his sides and he bowed his head in understanding and defeat. The usual practice of these inns were to put out guests when they lost their money or got it stolen, it was far too kind to let guests stay for free and to even lend a horse. Still, he could not wrap his mind around how to get the money to give to his sisters. He couldn't just go back home and tell his father, 'Dad, I'm sorry but someone stole the money and I need another five thousand pounds.' They are not poor but they aren't that rich either, what his father earned as the local doctor and local apothecary owner barely made ends meet now that his sisters were in boarding school and his job as a butler could only help so much. _

_The now familiar voice once again broke into his thoughts, "Let's get you back into the room," she held his arm, the warmth seeping into his skin and boldly reminding him that this was reality, and almost dragged him into his rented room, far away from the other guest's curious glances._

_Once they were in the room, he looked down at the girl who barely reached his chest. Come to think of it, he didn't even know her name. It was strange to hear his voice echo across the room when he asked, "How'd you do it?"_

_She looked up at him, "Do what?" _

_His ears could still hear that perceptible voice of the upper class, indeed all signs from the full gown to the stockinged feet and dainty, bejeweled shoes pointed to that single conclusion however, he ignored it. If this person didn't want to be recognized as such then he would respect that. _

"_The innkeeper, this room…what did you tell them?"_

_She waved her hand in the empty air to signify it was nothing important, "Don't mind about it. I only told them we were on our way to Gretna Green, was to meet here but the thief briefly broke our reunion. It also somehow explained why we were a tad late at attending to her."_

_A chuckle escaped from his throat and his eyebrow rose by itself. Who was he to complain about what got him his board and lodging for free? What silliness, for that tale to be believed by sane people._

"_What in the world would have given you that idea, chit?" He strode to rest on the bed and place his head on his hands. There was no way he could get five thousand pounds so easily in a few days._

"_That is what I hear. Obviously, it is quite common enough for them to believe it. It is quite clever, isn't it?" There was a hint of pride in her voice and he made a note to himself to remind her some other time that Gretna Green was located somewhere on the border of Scotland and beloved England. Right now, they were in a little inn near the border of France. _

"_Where are you going to sleep?"_

"_Right here, of course. I'll be alright in the closet and you can get the bed."_

"_No. You're getting the bed, I'll be on the floor."_

_He waited for her reply but when none came, he lifted his head and quickly realized what she was about to do when he saw her getting what looked like several thousand pounds worth of jewelry from her pocket. He hastily rose from the bed and clamped his hand around hers._

_Her large eyes looked back at his stubborn brown eyes and narrowed determinedly. "You got your money stolen through no fault of yours. We'll be pawning these tomorrow to get you the funds you need. There must be a thousand pounds here," how wrong she was, there was more than a thousand from the glitters that managed to shine between their hands, "enough to reimburse you. I'm giving it to you, you clearly need it and I was really planning on pawning them away anyway." Her lips pursed in determination as they stared at each other in a battle of wills._

_Ichigo knew there was no other way to get the money back. And his mind tried to process it slowly, but he knew he would have to just accept it if it meant protecting his sister's education and the family don't even have to know. _

_Gradually, he loosened the tight grip he had on her hand and sighed in defeat, "I don't see any other way but to accept that offer," he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, "You ran away didn't you?"_

"_I did. If you're offering to give me to the authorities then you can forget the offer. "_

"_I was not. I'm sure you would want somewhere to hide away so my offer is, if the idea is acceptable to you, I can give you a job at the manor where I work as a butler."_

"_You're a butler?"_

"_Yes, and I know I'm a bit young but I came highly recommended," he tried to keep the smugness out of his voice, "it's in the country, far from London and the Baron is rarely ever gone. We don't even have those parties nobles do in the country."_

"_That's fortunate of me, how convenient." He saw her with her hands around her arms, deep in thought and contemplating. _

"_It's your decision," he extended a hand and tried to give a small smile, "Though, I guess that's the best we can get at such a late notice, don't you think?"_

_She returned the smile and clasped his extended hand, "It's Rukia, by the way."_

"_Ah, call me Ichigo."_

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ_  
_

Rukia looked up at the midday sky and squinted her eyes. Being the middle of summer, it was so blue with nary a cloud in sight and the trees gently rustled their leaves in the breeze. All around her were houses built so close together one could practically talk to their neighbor from a window, and everyone was busy with their own work. A year ago, she would have been reading under one of her favorite tree or practicing fencing with her friend who also happened to be her brother's man of affairs; how different from the life she was living now.

She looked around her to search for Jinta, the stable boy she had hired for a few coins and saw that he was leading the mare not far after her, then she went straight inside the musty-smelling store. The first thing she saw was the huge person of Chad. Fetching the parchment from her pocket, she approached him.

"Chad."

"Ah, Miss Rukia." It was a surprise when she had first met Chad that he actually called her, 'my lady'. She had almost panicked and so had insisted that he call her by her given name but to no avail. He had merely settled for a 'Miss Rukia' with no explanation whatsoever as to why.

"I see you're quite busy stocking up."

He looked at her through his thick hair that almost fully covered his eyesight and asked, "How's Ichigo?"

"Fine, as always. Running about the manor this way and that and doing his job. Anyway, I was ordered to get these things for the kitchen." She eyed a particularly good piece of cloth, not as expensive as hers used to be but good enough. At least, good enough for her to realize that she can never ford it with her maid's salary. And that dampened her mood, it could have been made into several nice shirts since she now could make a decent attempt at sewing.

Chad looked at the list and nodded his head; she guessed that was his way of telling her he had all of the stuff in their store? As the big man moved around the store, she walked to the various shelves and merchandise freely since it was midday and therefore people were eating their lunch and not quite as active at any other part of the day. At any other times, the store would have been several costumers buying his goods.

Rather vaguely, she remembered that this store was handed down to Chad by his grandfather, someone who had come from the colonies but settled in this place. There were still some who disliked the dark color of their skin, and sometimes, she wondered if she would have looked twice at the guy if she had met him six months ago but then again, that was an empty point to consider; there would have been no way she would have met someone like Chad had she not run away. A small smile tugged at her lips at the thought. Her life before had been extremely sheltered, she might have realized just how privileged she was upon seeing men and women moving about their daily business in London or at home but never had she known just how much of their hardships they had to endure everyday until she actually lived with them. It all seemed too far away when seeing through a window of a comfortable, horse-driven carriage.

Chad came to her and told her that everything was ready. Apparently, he had anticipated this and so had readied what the manor's kitchen might have needed. Needless to say, she was quite impressed. However, upon seeing the amount of things she would have to bring, she immediately regretted the single horse she had persuaded Jinta to bring. Oh, why haven't she thought to bring a wagon along with the horse?

She felt her eyebrows furrow as she stared at the mountainload of items she needed to bring. There was no way she could bring all of that in just one trip, she thought when windows closing brought her attention back to the other person in the shop. Chad was currently closing the windows.

"What are you doing? Are you closing the shop this early?"

"Yes. I'm going to the manor with you, Miss Rukia. Ichigo and I…will talk."

"Oh, he did mention that," she saw him place in his arms all the things the manor needed. Awkwardly, she thanked him and he grunted his welcome. "Wait a moment, let me call Jinta, he should help you with those."

She rushed to the door where Jinta was waiting for her, fiddling with his hat and doing nothing else. Immediately, she ordered him to go help Chad with the stuff. And then she was left standing alone on the shop's front door, the horse softly neighing its impatience.

Suddenly, the small weight of her pocket disturbed her as if it weighed the whole world.

* * *

My longest chapter ever! I hope it set the pace and made you want to come back for more.

The 2nd chapter is in the works! If anyone wants to beta, please volunteer.

And please do review, I'd very much like to hear your feedback.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach because I am not Tite Kubo. Copyright belongs to those who legally do.

**N/A: **For more information about butlers, put this link on your browser and place the right punctuation where they should be. http[semi-colon]/www[dot]probertencyclopaedia[dot]com[forwardslash]A[underscore]BUTLER[dot]HTM

Although I've taken a little bit of my creative license for Ichigo to hand out the duties because their housekeeper (Mrs. Nellie) has Alzheimer's disease. Of course, back then, they don't know it as that. Also, for future reference, I made up the titles.

Thanks to Hese Solstis. Honestly, I keep forgetting about this rating stuff so I changed it to** M** because of certain situations in the future chapters, if you know what I mean. *wiggles eyebrows*

Do enjoy!

* * *

_**The Rules of Aristocracy**_

**Chapter 2**

"Oi, Rukia, what took you so long?" Ichigo's question took her by surprise. Not because of his asking per se, but because of the sheer volume of it. They were still approaching, actually a good distance away, when he shouted that question addressed to her from the door leading to the kitchen. She stamped the blush that threatened to color her cheeks away and didn't shout her answer back at him, at least not in front of an audience.

"I asked you a question, Rukia!" She turned her face away from his glare and continued walking. His question could wait until she would not shout her answer the way he was doing. One shouldn't forget one's manners. Then as if, he had just noticed, he called out, "Oh, Chad! Long time no see!"

Beside her, Chad raised his hand in acknowledgement and continued on leading the horse. They have attached Chad's wagon to the horse and had placed the stuff there, it was his idea. And Jinta was walking behind her and Chad with his hands crossed over the back of his head. It took them a few more minutes to reach the scowling Ichigo where some of the kitchen help appeared and unloaded their cargo.

Suddenly amidst the controlled chaos with Tessai barking out the orders for the inventory to be taken and Ichigo merely supervising, Chad spoke out, "Ichigo, about that." Now, that was vague. Her curiosity was peaked now. She might have to ask Ichigo about that later if he won't tell her right away. Maybe.

"That is for later, Chad. Who did you leave your store with?"

"No one."

"Ah, spend the night here. I'm sure the baron wouldn't mind it." These two men were incredibly short with words, Rukia thought. She also thought that the Baron really must have so much trust in Ichigo for him to decide who can and cannot stay in the manor before the Baron. Who was this Baron, anyway? Everyone seemed to have good thoughts reserved for this person although Ichigo had said he was a weird sort of person so maybe His Lordship was an eccentric. She'd have known her share of those.

Still, it might be a good idea if she never meet this Baron. There's no knowing what might happen and personally, she'd shudder to think if her worst scenario will happen. She knew why Ichigo sent her on this trip; so she and Baron won't be able to see each other when he arrived. Servants were expected to greet their employers upon their arrival. As a housemaid, she was expected to do exactly that but a missing servant or two shouldn't phase them, servants were many and one couldn't expect the Baron to know all of them. Heck, even she, herself, knew there were servants whose names and faces wasn't known to her. That's just how it was.

Unbeknownst to her, Ichigo had an eye on her the whole time. It was late afternoon already, and the Baron had arrived hours ago but went straight to bed after his midday meal though not before he had specifically asked to meet the new maid. He might have to brief Rukia on what she might have to say; and even though it was not needed, he wanted to be there to reassure himself; especially that her speech slips whenever her emotions get the better of her.

It was more for him than for her, really.

When the scent of tea and sweet icings wafted up to his nose, he was reminded of the fact that the Baron and his guest would take their afternoon tea. Already, his hands were sweating though he kept his calm façade. It was certain that his eccentric employer would request to see Rukia and should he ask to see her recommendations, then he would vouch for her. No doubt about that.

"Tessai, are the scones, the croissants and the little cakes together with the afternoon tea ready for His Lordship?"

"Done they are, Kurosaki. Just keeping warm on the stove, send out a maid when they're to be eaten 'cause I'll be right here fixing the kitchen."

"Good. Thank you, Tessai."

In a low voice that Ichigo was sure only he could hear Tessai added, "Take care of the little miss."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed at the unclear message insinuated in his words.

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ

The scent of freshly cut green grass hung in the air and the rays of the sun from its low angle made everything look picturesque. The water from the man-made pond (a work commissioned by the one of the Baron's ancestors) sparkled in its clarity and a number of fish broke its surface from time to time, it would be a great spot for fishing and the landscape was spectacular with tall bushes cut in different styles and the maze was a tall wall of green intimidating those who wanted to go walk through the puzzle.

"Ah, Kurosaki, remind me to thank you later. You really took great pains to make this place look so beautiful, didn't you?"

Ichigo snapped his head to face the Baron. Urahara's eyes were obscured by the green hat he wore and in its entirety, the hat was the only thing that looked out of place as he walked with the help of a cane. The Baron's cravat was elegantly tied in a simple knot, his shirt was crisp and clean, and the gray trousers, long white stockings and heeled shoes matched well with the big great-coat. He could hardly believe his valet was the one who laid out these clothes for him. "It's a pleasure, my Lord."

"Oh no, really. It must have been great pains after what happened to Mrs. Nellie and you took over her duties too. And my staff are a wayward bunch aren't they?" he let out a chuckle, "It was one of my best decisions ever to hire you, I would really regret if I would lose you one day. I don't think I've ever met someone who could handle the jobs of being my steward, butler and a housekeeper. Your talents inspire awe."

"My lord, you flatter me too much." He gritted his teeth at the unexpected praise. There was something there and he had a slight feeling that something was about to happen. He tried to brush off the feeling.

"Oh stop it, Urahara. You'll make the boy blush to his toes with fancy compliments." In front of them, Lady Shihouin interjected and she and Urahara shared a laugh as if it was a private joke between the two of them. Next to her was her black cat, her namesake, which spoke volumes of the pair's compatibility. Really, who in the name of all that is good, names their cats after themselves? Scratch that. The real question was how did he manage to stick himself to people of strange temperaments.

Trailing behind them were two maids bringing a basket of edibles and a pot of tea with dainty little teacups. Ichigo was brought for company as to Urahara's suggestion. They soon found a spot in a nice shaded area near the pond where the titled persons spread a blanket and sat on. The two maids were dispatched soon after leaving Ichigo catering to whatever needs they wanted and the lady's maid, whose name he didn't catch, was sent back along with the other maids.

He was pouring them their tea, when seemingly out of the blue Urahara popped a question.

"Kurosaki, could you handle a party?"

Speechless, he stared at the serious faces of Yoruichi and Urahara and realized that they were expecting an answer. "Who would be the guests?"

"Lords and ladies of the realm, just a few really although they would be staying here for three days. Business, you see. Since I don't have the heart to throw out our old Mrs. Nellie, the responsibilities would be left to you and my valet. I'm afraid I don't know how these things are supposed to go."

He could agree to this. He really should agree to this; it would mean that this would take the baron's attention off Rukia for the time-being if he could be that lucky. And even though it would be his first at throwing parties of this size and importance with titled guests, he was pretty sure he could manage with a particular someone's help. He placed the teapot down and served the butter and said, "Yes, my lord, it would be a great opportunity to hone and practice my skills."

"Hold your horses boy," the lady abruptly snatched his attention, "don't just say you'll try. Make this party a success, alright? Even though we'd be entertaining only a few of them, they are very important people. One even has the Regent's ear so you better treat it like a battlefield."

He nodded in agreement. "When are you planning to have this party, my lord?" The guest list was also crucial for his purpose. Indeed, he felt the strong urge to run back to the manor and talk to Chad immediately and keep Rukia hidden for the whole duration of this event. That would definitely settle his worry and return his peace of mind.

"Next week," the Baron absent-mindedly licked a wayward dollop of butter from his croissant, "and you shall have the guest list as soon as we retire to bed, my man of affairs have kindly made one for me but I left it in the bedroom."

"What a hassle, Urahara, you shouldn't forget things like that."

"Hmm, that may be so Yoruichi, but it's a simple thing. I forget about simple things. Now, if we're talking about missing heiresses and the like, that is likely unforgett-are you alright Kurosaki?"

"Of course, my Lord," he composed himself again from the near-disaster of the teapot slipping from his hold that he so slightly missed, "just worrying about the party, is all."

"Right, just the party. So Kurosaki, have you forgotten about my little request?" The Baron took a little sip of his tea and showed great delight in the brew.

Ichigo instantly placed the teapot back on the spread blanket and sat back on his heels lest his hands decide to show his emotions too well again, "No, my lord, I was just waiting for your orders. But there is no need for interview. Let me assure you of her character even though you may find it irresponsible for me to have-"

_Swoosh!_ The loud unfurling of Yoruichi's fan in one swift motion effectively stopped his speech. "Don't doubt for a second that we have such high trust on you Kurosaki. We're merely curious, and would like to meet her. I'm afraid we have spent too many months traveling in the Continent and when we arrived back at London, the Season was in full swing, that we haven't checked upon how our dear Ichigo was doing." A mischievous smile appeared on her face.

Nothing good could possibly come out of that smile so he decided not to voice out his disapproval. He have never known nobles to take such interest in their household staff as these two eccentrics did. The snapping of a twig took their attention and their sights fell on a quickly approaching petite female.

Suddenly, the urge to run and hide her rose up in him so violently he had to clench his fists until his knuckles turned deathly white and his nails bit into his palms to stomp it.

Rukia first noticed the almost reddish-blonde, unruly hair that glowed orange in the sunlight. His tall physique gave nothing away and he was looking at her so intensely that the determined frown etched into his face made her more resolved to not botch up her acting. She knew not why she was being called, not to say that this was highly unusual and that the two aristocrats were conversing with Ichigo as if they were old _friends_!

She had never known anyone to be that familiar with their butler.

A few steps more and she was bowing in front of her employers. She didn't dare look up at them but the dark skin of the lady marked her as someone familiar. Really familiar, in fact when he heard her voice, she almost groaned out loud because there was no way this could be happening.

"Kurosaki, I really must commend you now. She _is _interesting. And Kisuke, I want in on this." There was audible amusement in her voice coupled with Kisuke's (she surmised, the Baron) loud chuckling.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Ichigo looking back and forth at her and their other companions uncertainly. She wanted to reassure him but she couldn't at the moment. Tentatively, she raised her eyes and looked at Yoruichi and Kisuke while her face remained impassive. A knowing glance passed between the two and she had an epiphany.

"I didn't catch your name," the Baron had spoken up in between mouthfuls of the sweet-smelling cakes.

"It's Rukia, my lord, my lady."

"A most unusual name. I heard your story from my valet who heard it from my cook who, in turn, heard it from the butler himself. I understand you are an orphan, so sorry to hear that, by the by, and that the farm you've lived in ever since had suffered a fire?"

She nodded politely and wished, off all things, for the earth to open up and swallow her whole then and there. She felt like a child who was caught sleeping in Mass! Vaguely, she remembered concocting that background with Ichigo and have almost forgotten it. It's been so rarely mentioned these days she could have sworn she forgot it. Well, almost completely forgotten it, at any rate. And damned if Yoruichi wasn't sporting that mischievous look she always had on her face when she discovered something uncanny and right. The two of them never did become friends in the sense of the word. Rukia only ever saw her on the few occasions she came to London and the few times they had a conversation weren't especially enlightening. Lady Yoruichi Shihouin was what they called a woman of the world.

"What a pity…I would like to hear more about this. How exactly did you meet our Ichigo Kurosaki over here?" Her gaze fell on the Baron once again as he continued, "I, for one, know how unfriendly he can be. I swear, he's so uptight he doesn't know what fun is."

"It is as you have heard, my lord."

"But we want details, my dear." Yoruichi's golden eyes were filled with amusement as they strayed all over her dirty uniform while her black cat strolled from its place on the woman's lap and proceeded to wrap itself around her feet and purred its contentment.

Before she was able to speak as she opened her mouth, Ichigo managed to draw all attention back to him. One moment, he was standing beside Kisuke and the next; he was in front of her, effectively blocking her from their view. All she saw was the black material of his coat as she heard him say, "Pardon, but I'm afraid Miss Rukia is needed back at the house, my lord. She still does have her duties."

Her hand rose to smack him however she stopped herself. What was she going to say, after all? The truth? And in return, bring scandal to her name and family? She couldn't have that. All her life, she was protected, sheltered and privileged. This time, it felt good to know she was doing something for them.

Yet she can't shake the feeling of wanting to clobber him senseless. His remark had bordered on impertinence. No matter how curious she was to see the other pair's reactions, it was almost impossible. Ichigo's wide back barred her from seeing how they received his statement. From the clenched fist and tension she could feel radiating from him, she could only stay silent and anticipate the next course of action…

Long moments of silence passed before the bored voice of Kisuke broke through the tense atmosphere, "We might as well be going back to the house. The sun is setting and the tea is gone."

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ

The moon had long risen in the sky, and from the windows of his study, Kisuke could clearly see the crescent moon and the stars winking back at him mockingly. He wasn't born into nobility. A distant uncle had bestowed the title unto him upon his death although he was aware of the possible good fortune, it still came as a surprise to him. Back then, he thought he would be fully living his life as landed gentry, albeit poor.

That was twenty years ago. He learned of his good fortune when he was twenty-four years old and not a day had gone by that he didn't think of how his life could have been. He remembered that he tried to get into the army to fight against Napoleon but then, he lacked the necessary funds to get into the army for his commission and there was the farm too. When he had the funds necessary after his sudden good fortune, he got injured in a simple horse-riding accident and had to recuperate. Recuperate, he did. He still had a minor limp, hence the cane.

Kisuke Urahara tipped the brandy decanter directly to his mouth. If he was going to get drunk, he was going to do it his way. He abandoned his glass on his desk and strolled to the nearest couch where he promptly fell on his back. His untied cravat fell limply from his neck as he made himself comfortable. It still confused him why he felt this mood settle into him tonight.

_Ah, of course, _he thought to himself belligerently_. Who wouldn't be troubled upon finding out that they have just hired the Rukia Kuchiki? And I have a party to host next week. Damn it! _

The door to his study opened and someone came in. The soft footfalls he recognized were Yoruichi's who was garbed in only her nightgown in the slightly warm weather.

"I knew I'd find you in here, Kisuke. What I didn't expect was to find you drinking." The decanter was soon grabbed from his hand. He raised his eyes to meet hers just as she, herself, drank brandy straight from its source. "This is good brandy."

"I should know," a smile crept into his lips, "Isshin taught his son well."

"How incredible. You managed to catch two birds with one stone."

His arms snaked around her waist and brought her down on top of him. "Coincidence, really. Tessai tells me she has been here for 6 months already. She's a real catch for Kurosaki, isn't she?"

"You saw it, too?" She crossed her arms on his chest as he rubbed small circles at the small of her back, "don't interfere then. Let them go at their own pace."

"Of course, I saw it and why are you accusing me of something I'm not doing…" he huffed, and added silently to himself, _'at least, not yet'._

"Let's just say, I know you too much. You're meddling too much in the affairs of others." She let out a slow moan as he continued to rub small circles on her back, only that his hand was now slowly trailing farther south. A dark hand shot out to grab his untied cravat from his hold while the woman atop him smiled deviously.

He had a feeling he was going to enjoy this. "That's a half-truth and you also know that, Yoruichi," slowly, he brought his other hand to land on top of her shoulder, "I don't meddle, I only help things go along smoothly, the way they want them to." Within him, he debated whether this was going to be another destroyed nightgown or not.

"Now, that sounds positively cunning." Urahara couldn't help take a sharp inhale when she all too suddenly whispered to his ear while her hand slipped easily into his hair, "why don't you put that cunning to another use, eh?"

Smiling to himself, he answered, "My pleasure, madame."

And their lips crushed together in their tight embrace.

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ

Yawning, Ichigo stared at the dark-haired valet of Urahara. His insistent knocking woke him up. It was unfortunate that he had almost forgotten how weird the guy can be with now that he was facing him. The entire household was quiet now, the staff having gone to bed almost half an hour ago. The man had woken him up in his sleep and he cursed for he was tired and he really wanted his sleep.

"Kurosaki."

Standing by the door, he glared at the candle filling his dark room with a soft, yellow light. "Bloody hell, Mayuri, isn't it a little bit late to go calling?"

"His lordship wanted you to have this." He detected a bit of disgust in the valet's voice. Those who met him for the first time would likely be offended by that tone but you get to learn to ignore it after living with him for a long time. Urahara surely did.

A note appeared in front of his face brandished by the valet. He grabbed it and tried to read what as written on it but the light wasn't cooperating. It flickered and danced so much that the letters were nothing but a jumble of squiggles he possibly couldn't read. A few seconds later, he gave up and met the glinting, amused eyes of Mayuri.

Feeling uncomfortable, he swiftly grabbed the note from the valet's clutches. "Uh, thanks. Goodnight." He said nothing more as he slammed the door close.

Taking the few steps to his bed, he placed the note on the little table beside his bed and sleep took him even before his head hit the pillow.

When he opened his dark, brown eyes again, he instinctively knew it was the next day even though his room was still dark. Feeling reluctant to get off the bed, he sat for a while, his eyes alighting upon the corner he had left the note last night. He would have wanted nothing more than to hide under his covers, but that would be detrimental to his character. He stood up to brush aside the curtains of the room's lone window.

Still, the day promised to be fine; a few rays of the sun peeped out of the horizon and fat clouds marred the sky. It would have been a fine day, indeed, to go riding with Zangetsu. A simple luxury he had no more time of indulging in. The sound of paper filled the room as he read the names on the guest list, a few sounded familiar.

Yet, one stood out.

He crumpled the note and his scowl deepened, though, if one looked closely, one could somehow see the helplessness etched into his dark expression.

Even the favor he had asked of Chad wasn't enlightening. Silently, he cursed his lowly existence and the shackles of his birth.

* * *

_"The road to true love never did run smooth." William Shakespeare_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach because I am not Tite Kubo. Copyright belongs to those who legally owns Bleach.

**A/N:** Is no one wondering what the hell happened in the six months that Rukia spent as a maid with Ichigo? Or that they traveled together for hours and hours right after they first met? Really, people? Doesn't it just give you ideas? *smiles slyly* Would it be shameful of me to ask for more reviews? Haha sorry for the late update, I had finals…and lots of distractions. Constructive criticism very welcome.

Thanks for reading! Do Enjoy!

* * *

_**The Rules of Aristocracy**_

**Chapter 3**

Three days have passed and somewhere deep in his heart, an unsettling feeling had lodged itself. He tried to throw himself into his work in the hopes of finding a few moments of peace yet the doubt lingered like the thick, rolling clouds that lingered in the afternoon sky overhead. More than once, he had found himself staring into space as he thought of all the things which could possibly happen, and the doubt, the uncertainty just increased within him.

It kept his mood low, but he kept it well-hidden under the guise of good humor yet his eyebrows furrowed a bit deeper than usual, his smile seemed more menacing, and his brown eyes just a shade darker. Because of that, everyone walked around on eggshells when he was in close proximity and the staff went about their daily work with more vigor than necessary…

However, everyone did not include Rukia. As said person was stroking the glossy, black coat of his horse, Zangetsu. He stood at the stable's large doorway for a few moments, taking in how she looked almost wistful while feeding Zangetsu some apples, and approached her in slow, even steps.

"Rukia, what are you doing here?"

She glanced his way and answered, "I've finished with my duties, if you must know," she let the horse nuzzle her hand, "I picked up some apples that have fallen and I figured I'd feed them to the horses but only your horse was here." There was an inquisitive tone to her voice that he felt compelled to answer.

"The baron and Lady Shihouin went riding this morning and they are yet to return." But that only accounted for two of the horses; the others were most likely being taken for a short exercise by the groom and stable boys.

Taking her hand away from his horses' mouth, she turned to face him, "Ichigo, why didn't you tell me His Lordship would be entertaining?"

He shrugged and stood beside his horse. He'd rather not answer that for a little while longer. Sensing his presence, Zangetsu pranced in his stall and neighed to catch his attention. A smile twitched upon his lips when Zangetsu nudged his wet nose unto his shoulder. Even though his horse had obviously developed a soft spot for Rukia, it was still clear who Zangetsu preferred; he sneaked a glance at Rukia to see her reaction and found it somewhat satisfying that her expression remained calm.

"I barely had time to tell you."

"Unbelievable. We see each other fairly regularly, you know. At mealtimes, especially...you don't have to be worried about me, Ichigo."

"Rukia…" The words that wanted to be spoken scrambled around in his mind but not one reached his tongue.

"And I can very well help you with preparations." He scoffed at the idea while she offered him a half-hearted smile to placate him, perhaps.

"What do you know of parties for these aristocrats? A _mere_ merchant's daughter," he deliberately placed the emphasis, "would not have the slightest idea of what these parties entail."

Eyes the color of early dawn narrowed as she replied, "Perhaps, but I hear things. I have some ideas; you might want to hear them."

He raised an eyebrow, not at her words but at how tightly her fists were clenched at her sides. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that was an ill attempt at prying information on the party.

He frowned and held his hands behind his back. Actually, now that he thought about it, she is anxious. Blaming his inattention on his own worries, he finally noticed how she held her back tensely (somewhere, at the back of his mind, it reminded him of her mother's instructions to stand straight and proud like a taut string), how her lips were pursed and how her eyes gazed back at him unwaveringly.

"Including the guests who'll be in attendance, everything is planned so there is no need to fret, Rukia, In fact, invitations were sent yesterday." Her gaze shifted and he realized there was no way she was going to tell him the cause of her anxiety unless he prod her.

"That…is good to know."

A sly smile threatened to show itself upon his lips when an idea entered his mind. He knew that Rukia trusted him but if she was not ready to divulge to him everything that he needed to know then he was not going to force her; he could only try to assuage her own concerns through his own means.

Tomorrow, he'll talk to her then.

The gentle lilt of her voice broke through his thoughts, "Were you looking for me?"

Taking a single step away from her, he stopped to look back at her and offered a sheepish grin. Ichigo thought the answer was obvious so there was no need to even ask the question. She merely sighed and smiled back at him before stroking Zangetsu's coat for the last time. Together they walked the short distance to the manor's kitchen entrance in amiable chatter.

For the time-being, his worries focused on her. And he wasn't even certain of the reason why he did.

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ

Rukia stood on one corner of the library. The candle she had lit managed to reveal shelves of tomes that lined the walls and she idly read the titles as she waited for the man she was going to speak to tonight. Secrecy was warranted should she speak to the Baron.

Earlier that evening, she had managed to slip a note into the valet's hand. Whether or not the valet was able to give the note to Urahara she didn't know until the moment he appears on the door. And right now, her eyes were glued to that spot and her eyes strained to hear anything that resembled footsteps. Her heart thudded a beat within her chest as she rubbed her hands together in nervous anticipation.

Idly, she felt the calluses in her hands. Her maid would be aghast and fuss over such simple fact. What would Kiyone do about it, she wondered a little. Probably encase her hands in gloves and rub them raw till they once again were soft and pink, is what she would probably do. Now, when her maid sees how she had cut her hair to such a short length; it would probably prompt her to throw a fit and mourn its loss. A chuckle left her lips and echoed across the room and the sound reminded her of her current circumstances that, swiftly, she shut the twinge of homesickness into the recesses of her heart.

Her head snapped to the door when it opened then closed. Sooner than she might have hoped, the Baron walked in and he stopped in his tracks when his eyes alighted upon her small figure barely illuminated by the candle. She knew he recognized her immediately.

For a few seconds, Urahara merely stared at her. Rukia cleared her throat loudly, effectively breaking his trance and greeted him with a bow, "A pleasant evening, my lord."

"No, please, it's my pleasure," at this he bowed low at her, showing no discomfort despite the almost imperceptible limp, "your Grace."

She nodded his acknowledgment of her status. It came as no shock to her that he knew. Yoruichi must have told him…

He sauntered to a small couch right where she stood and motioned for her to sit. "Please take a seat, your Grace. It wouldn't do me any good for you to get an ache in your pretty bones from standing up too long."

"I would rather not; my uniform is dirty."

"Please take a seat. A few smudges of dirt are inconsequential compared to your comfort. How about some tea?" He walked to a curtained section of the wall, obviously to ring the butler even at such a late hour but she halted his intentions with a mere sweep of her hand, "oh, no tea, then? Please, make yourself comfortable."

Without his hat, the Baron's smile was clearly less ominous. She relented and sat on the couch with her hands folded on her lap while he scrambled about the desk and lighted more candles. After this was done, he sat on a chair reminiscent of the rococo fashion across from her. He held his cane with a strong grip even when seated and she found herself staring at his unadorned cane.

"Pardon me, my lord, for asking you to meet me at such an ungodly hour. I found no acceptable alternative to how to speak with you concerning this."

"I repeat, it's a pleasure, your Grace. I've never had the chance to entertain a duke's sister before. Granted, the accommodations handed to you might have been below even your worst expectations but-"

"That's not what I want to talk to you about," she almost snapped. The cheerful tones of his voice grated at her nerves and honestly, she wanted this conversation to be over with immediately; that meant no pleasantries, yet. Just because she had taken some for granted as a maid doesn't mean she cannot forget the manners befitting someone of her real station as she had been doing for the past months. Particularly, not with a member of the peerage.

"I beg your pardon," he bowed his head, "what do you want from your humble servant?"

"Ichigo," she suddenly blurted without thinking. He cocked an eyebrow and she swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in her throat, "At the off chance that I might be _discovered_ by one of your guests, please do not inform them on how I came to be here or his connection to my current circumstance. His name must not be involved in any of this"

Silence reigned broken only by the rhythmic tapping of Urahara on the ivory handle of his cane. Then he spoke, "Oh, so you know about my invitation to your brother."

"Yes. Perhaps you can enlighten me on the nature of your invitation."

"For mutual business interests. I would like to discuss some ventures, and if they are interested and willing, we could form a pool of investors. There are some investments I thought would benefit us in the long run, exports and the like. Mining too, probably."

She could feel his gaze on her. Curious but too polite to ask her directly or to act on it that he kept quiet and it wasn't helping with the tense atmosphere. She sighed to herself. Her brother wasn't too keen on keeping the old traditions in, at least, the notions of how to keep the lifestyle. They have discussed it over dinners; land was sufficient to keep their coffers full yet it required constant vigilance for the market price of produce and grain could be quite unstable, the shipping line they had can be unpredictable because of shipwrecks and the occasional pirates, and though looked down upon now, the merchant class was rising and the reason for that, investing and setting up business, was a very viable option.

Byakuya would, most likely, join the pool and find it lucrative with possibilities.

"That thought is very comforting, thank you."

Her eyes met his in surprise. Had she spoken her last thought out loud? Yes, she did. She could tell from the way his lips curled in amusement. She looked away and blurted out the question hovering in her mind since the first time she had raced out of the horse-driven carriage into Ichigo.

"How is my brother doing?"

"His Grace is doing well, last I heard. He was apparently his usual self; went to London only to attend the Parliament or a few balls. You missed the whole season. I heard a lot of bachelors came to offer for you but were all turned away and disappointed, Your Grace."

"How about my disappearance, my lord?"

He shifted in his seat before answering her, "Rumors abound on that, some nasty and some have gotten a few chuckles. The Duke set them right when he declared that you have fallen ill and wished to recuperate by yourself in the country."

She let out a loud sigh. Rumors. She had anticipated those and sometimes wondered what the gossipers had spread to explain her non-attendance for the whole Season, after only having her come-out the year before.

"Your Grace, do let me tell you, but how similar in appearance you are to your late, departed sister. I have seen her in her day when you were just a mere babe, a real diamond of the first water, as you are. No wonder the bachelors have been singing praises about you and leaving their cards."

The last remark was quite unexpected and only served to highlight the heavy swirl of emotions she had tried to keep at bay. With annoyance creeping just below her voice, she said, "Thank you. I think I have been appraised enough."

She rose so suddenly that Urahara shot straight from his chair comically, she would have let out an unladylike laugh had she not been peeved by his unnecessary remarks earlier. He managed to open the door for her as she got a candlestick then proceeded to her quarters without a backward glance.

She didn't need any reminders on what awaited her once she bared her face again to Polite Society. And whatever scandal she will cause with her re-appearance would surely not matter. After all, with enough prestige, power and money, one can overcome any blemish on the family name. Such as the one which met her brother and sister; a Duke, seventh-in-line to the throne, marrying a lowly merchant's daughter. The ton was fickle that way.

In the dark hallway, Rukia heard the diminishing footsteps of the Baron in time to her previous discomfort. The soft scuffles of her only pair of shoes - admittedly the cheapest she had ever owned (imagine that!) - kept the hallways from being too…silent, haunting and eerie. One could almost imagine a specter lurking by in wait for an unsuspecting victim…

Taking a deep breath of fortitude, she faced ahead and tried to hold at bay the images popping in her mind. Mrs. Edgeworth's novels were truly remarkable in style and description, the metaphysical aspect of the stories her weakness, but they can be scary and nerve-wracking to think of at times like this. No wonder her governess had once warned her against such things. Her pace increased, causing the candle to flicker constantly and almost die out from her rush and she stopped to give it a few moments to recover.

She would have taken another step as the candle's brightness flared but before she could do so, a hand grabbed her from behind. Her arms flailed wildly about, the candlestick slipped from her hand and fell to the floor with an anticlimactic thud; then, they were cloaked in darkness. It surprised her briefly that during the brief altercation, the only sound she had uttered was a single squeak as if she was a mouse caught.

"Ichigo!," Rukia's temper flared. The hand around her arm was gentle and the warmth seeped from his fingertips to her skin. Hoping a bruise would show by tomorrow for scaring her even for a few seconds, she held on to his hand tightly.

"Damn, it's so dark. Also, hush." He tugged at her with the hand she was holding with a death grip, "follow me". She rolled her eyes in the dark, nevertheless, a smile crept into her face. Though it was dark and she could hardly see ahead of her, he seemed to know the way so she tried to keep up with his pace. They passed a hallway full of windows and then, they went through a door.

A shiver went through her body as the cold, night air met her with a blast. Through a parting of the clouds, the moon cast its soft light over them like molten silver. The trees looked dark and looming; the garden had shadows dotting its landscape like from one of her novels. Fog blanketed the ground and kept her feet chilly. Feeling something warm close over her body, she gazed up at Ichigo who was quickly wrapping a cover around her.

"Why bring me out here?"

"I need to tell you something."

Her mouth opened but no sound came out as she realized Ichigo must have heard hers and Urahara's conversation. Instead, she pointed out, "And you conveniently brought this," she meant the mantle, "with you?"

He shrugged and directed her eyes to a rather large rock with a flat surface right behind her, "Stand on that first, Rukia. It'll keep you above the fog."

She raised an eyebrow at his apparent concern. Over the time they had known each other, she would remark on his overdoing things though it often fell into deaf ears. These days, he seemed to be doing it with an increasing frequency like seeking her out at odd times of the day only to keep her within his vision and not approach her at all, or a tendency to tell her what to do. With a resigned look, she placed both feet on the rock.

"Alright, but only because its easier to look at you this way. Must I remind you that I do have shoes on and my constitution is not _that_ fragile," she huffed.

To her dismay, he merely shrugged off her words and crossed his arms. It was obvious he was feeling the chill. Slowly, she motioned to take it off. "Ichigo, you need this more than I do. You should have worn your coat-"

"No, its for you. Keep it on if you want to hear why I brought you out here in this goddamned weather."

She wisely kept silent.

"Spend a few days in the village for a while, just until all the guests would have gone back to wherever they spend their lazy arses on."

Dumbfounded, her eyes widened and no words came out of her open mouth. Ichigo's hand went through his hair as he explained, "You are clearly uncomfortable with Urahara hosting and so, I happened to send a message if someone would be willing to take you in for a few days. A week, at the most." He stared at her hard. "By the by, you can choose to stay with Tatsuki or Chizuru or whoever, they have all agreed. They would be happy to take you."

"That's certainly, well, unexpected, Ichigo. I don't…"

"It's just an option, of course." The edge in his voice told her otherwise.

"You heard us."

He stiffened visibly.

"Tell me what you heard." She reached out to him with a hand meant to reassure him.

Ichigo flinched as if her touch burned him. His eyes, the color of chocolate, appeared black under the dappled shadows of the trees. Two pools of deep, unfathomable emotions held her gaze.

"I'm a butler, Rukia. It's part of my job to stay awake as long as my employer is awake. I told you once, you can keep your own secrets and I'll keep mine. Now is not the time to ask you what yours is."

She searched his eyes for signs of anger, and found none. All she saw was understanding coupled with questions he did not dare ask. She can tell him would she choose to, but why won't the words come out?

"I didn't eavesdrop. I heard nothing. I only saw you and Urahara go out of the library, nothing more. Although, if you were desperate enough to run away in the first place from everything you knew," he clenched his fists at his sides without breaking eye contact, "Let me protect you. I don't know how, but I'll do anything I can."

_No_, _you can't_. Realizing her vision was fast becoming blurry, she turned her head away from him and willed the tears to go away. "I suppose, it'll have to be Tatsuki's." She remembered Tatsuki, Ichigo's friend since childhood. Her father was a blacksmith and they had a house with three rooms and one fireplace where they cooked their meals, and heated water. A girl with black hair often kept in a ponytail and wore dresses with somber colors. They would have been good friends. But there was never any chance of it happening.

"Aye, Tatsuki's it is then. I'll have to send her a message first thing in the morning. I can tell them you were not feeling under the weather-"

"Or that I've gone to visit my sick parents."

"That is good, too." She could practically hear the relief in his voice.

"No excuse is going to be good or better."

"What are you talking about, Rukia? As long as no one is the wiser-"

"NO!" Her hands found themselves on his solid chest and pounded insistently with each word, "I am not going to run away again!"

She might have continued on with her words yet she found she could not. Not when she was crushed into his arms, secure. It felt like home.

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ

"Oh, won't you look at that?"

Yoruichi spared Urahara a glance from the bed. "Spying? How unlike of a well-bred gentleman." Framed by the curtains, he stood by the window.

"Señora, it wouldn't be spying if they chose to rendezvous where I can see them for want of an audience."

Her lips curled at the answer. In the dark, she could almost make out the same devious look on his face. It's funny how fate works sometimes, she mused and knew that he was thinking the same thing. "Have you talked to Isshin? I know that the two of you keep a correspondence."'

Urahara faced her, a hand on his chin, and looked at her questioningly, "So you have been checking my mails. Devious."

She rolled her eyes and rose from the bed, "Not always, amor. Tell me."

"Let's see. Where should I start?" He sat on a chair in front of the hearth and crossed his legs, "I know that Ichigo first met her sometime in March, and introduced her to Isshin, she stayed at their home for a week or so, then at the start of April, she begun to work as a maid for me. Isshin already knew who she was, naturally, although he did have a difficult time believing it. He wrote me a long account about it and we both decided they could keep their charade. Tessai filled me in on the rest of the details. Did you know he kept his observations in a journal? It was very interesting to read."

Her cat purred and dumped her on Urahara's lap from the bed. Sitting across from him, she eyed the journal placed haphazardly on the floor and picked it up. "I remember when Ichigo, himself, went off and told no one of his whereabouts for about four, five years; aside from a few unaddressed letters to his sisters. Didn't he worry Isshin a hell of a lot and made the fool think of going back to his roots just to know where he could be found, much less, whether he was still among the living? That Ichigo might be talented and bright, but he can be too reckless at times. Even I worry for him."

The thin journal on her lap, she savored the warmth from the fire. Spain was never this cold at night. "Urahara, did you ever know what he preoccupied himself with during those lost years?" She had always wondered about it and this wasn't the first time she inquired about it. She had a hunch it was something awful, especially since he came back with a small fortune in hand.

And as always, she got the same answer from her lover, a shrug. "I have no right to talk about that."

"That is so shrewd, Urahara." She turned her attentions to the feline lying comfortably on his lap, her thin tail swinging back and forth, "Yoruichi, kitty, come here."

"I had a little talk with our guest." His announcement successfully took her notice.

"The devil you did and you didn't think of taking me with you. That _is_ shrewd." Yoruichi, the cat, stood from Urahara's lap and stretched right before she leapt unto her mistress'.

"Forgive me but there was no time to inform you. Mayuri told me the girl was waiting for me in the library and I dashed down there. I half-expected her to have bolted from the room, you know."

She watched the flames dance, creating shadows around them. Urahara always knew too much. One day, it just might place him in trouble. That day was long overdue.

"What did she tell you?"

"Absolutely nothing," he let out an exasperated sigh, "save for a strange request."

"Hm?"

"She requested that Ichigo's identity be unkown for his part in taking care of her all this time, if ever she is found out and she will be," he waved his hand at the empty air as if warding away a bad idea, "It complicates things."

"Things are already complicated enough. I, for one, find it hard to believe that Ichigo has done nothing to, at least, avoid that inevitability."

He leaned forward in his seat and in a hushed tone, told her, "He took care of that. Jinta told me he have sent the errand boy to deliver letters to some of his friends."

"And yet, Rukia decided to take a chance by staying? Maybe, she is tired of hiding in her own little role." That was expected. Rukia was always headstrong and set in her own ways. Characteristics she had noticed were muted by her respect for her brother. In the stories she heard about the girl over the years, she thought Rukia was doomed to be a bluestocking. The girl was simply too certain of herself, forget that little-known incident with Kaien back in her younger years, to choose a husband from among the nabobs and spoiled dandies vying for her hand, or fortune. What she needed was someone who could understand all of that, and help her ease into herself and not waste that passion. The fact that her brother had a lovematch merely cemented the fact that she could be left on the shelf. A chuckle escaped her lips, "The uniform doesn't fit her anyway."

Urahara chuckled along with her. "I hope that when all of this is finished, I won't be heading for Bedlam."

"You'll have Isshin to blame for that. After all, he foisted the boy on you."

Sending small sparks flying, he poked at the fire, "I'm afraid I was the one who offered to take in the boy. I needed a steward after the old one embezzled some, just because I was hieing myself somewhere now and then with you. As I said, he is doing a great job. Now, he volunteered for his job as a butler. I was surprised to know the range of his knowledge on beverages and liquors."

Cradling her cat in her arms, and holding the journal in one hand, she stood and bade a goodnight to Urahara. He bristled at her cool dismissal. "I thought you'd stay with me for the night."

"It's inappropriate."

"Bloody hell, our affair is not a secret."

"Even so, I like to keep up appearances even in your own household. Good night. And I'm borrowing the journal for a while."

He was left, sulking and mouth agape, as the door closed with a resolute bang.

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ

"Is something the matter, Orihime?"

Orihime blinked and stared straight at Rukia's large, violet eyes. Eyes that were currently searching her face as she grasped for an answer in her mind. "Ah" she stared down at her fingers, "it's nothin'. Sorry for the bother." Rukia looked at her one, last time before returning to their duties.

Currently, they were changing the heavy drapes in one of the manor's many rooms. The other maids were already gushing about the nobles they would be seeing in two days. Last night, they have exhausted the topic and briefly, she wondered if she had seen Rukia in the room they shared with the other maids. Rukia might sleep late at other nights, she spent those time reading or drawing cute, little bunnies by the candlelight, yet, she didn't remember Rukia coming in at all. And this morning, she had woken up to Rukia's empty bed.

She couldn't quite help it as her eyes once again, strayed to Rukia's small form. Her body appeared to be like a child's within the layers of clothing but there was nothing childlike about her enchanting face. The large, violet eyes which were deep-set and charmingly expressive were the first things she noticed when she met her. Those eyes that were a beautiful shade of violet melded well with her pert nose, rose-hued lips with a perfect Cupid's bow and fine bones. Rukia's complexion was even the right shade of cream-white and weren't quick to show a blush. She sighed and looked down at herself. Breasts that were the size of hers called for attention and she had been often labeled beautiful, pleasing to the eyes and she had never doubted that though she was not vain.

But, her thoughts have once again strayed from her! "Rukia, where'd you sleep last night?"

The subject of her thoughts faced her with the sunlight forming a soft glow around her body, an expression of curiosity on her face. Then surprise as the force of the question hit her, "In my bed, of course."

Her brows furrowed and she really tried to remember if she saw Rukia slip into her bed; she found she could not and she waited a long time for Rukia to return to their room last night...

Just then, barking hounds entered the room in a wild run and madly dashing about them. Rukia seemed bewildered and clutched the draperies to her chest. Rooted to her place, she held her skirts in place as the three hounds barked incessantly. Thank God their paws weren't muddy or they'd have problems with the floor and everything in the room, seeing as how the dogs appeared to be set on destruction. Rukia, also noticing what they may face, leapt into action, calling the dogs and somewhat calming them down.

Effectively quieting the dogs, a loud bellow filled the room and she recognized it as Kurosaki's. Relief filled her as she saw him there, that scowl on his face etched with annoyance as he strode inside to reprehend the hounds. Now, his face scared some of the maids and some of them found it appealing. She was certainly part of the latter group. "Kurosaki, thank goodness," to her dismay, her face felt heated and she suspected her face was red, "the dogs."

"Right. Begging your pardon, they escaped the keeper's notice." She saw him grab hold of a brown-speckled one and would have rushed over to him immediately to help him but Rukia's voice slowed her effort.

"Take off your coat first or you'll be sporting dog fur for the rest of the day." Rukia was on her knees, having seized one of the hounds by the collar, and unabashedly looking straight up at Ichigo.

He wiggled out of his coat and handed it to Rukia. As seeing them usually did, her heart constricted and her mouth felt dry. Tentatively, she stepped towards them. It was then that Rukia noticed her and gave her Ichigo's coat, "Orihime, will you please hold on to that for him?"

The coat was still warm as it settled into her hands. "Aye, of course." Resisting the urge to hug the coat but failing to keep her face from flushing red, she lifted her gaze to the two. Ichigo had two of the dogs in his arms and Rukia carried one, a feisty hound that wiggled in her arms in its attempts to escape. There was a familiarity they had with each other and something else she could not quite put a finger on. And while they walked together, she watched them with a clear perspective.

She didn't fail to catch the warmth that glazed his expression as he chided Rukia on the way she handled the hunting hound; but Rukia was having none of that as she answered him back. In some way, it told her of happiness or contentment. She isn't stupid. Watching Ichigo from afar for so long, she always thought she knew his emotions. After seeing that, she wasn't so sure if she really did.

* * *

_"Though this be madness, yet there is method in't."_

_Hamlet Act 2, scene 2, 193–206, William Shakespeare_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach because I am not Tite Kubo. Copyright belongs to those who legally do.

A/N: I think I've read way too much historical romances. The reviews I receive are too sweet and heart-warming! Thank you for reading, I hope you'll stay for the long journey~

* * *

_**The Rules of Aristocracy**_

**Chapter 4**

Byakuya Kuchiki looked out of his carriage window and to his dismay, saw red. Feigning ignorance, he tapped on the roof of his carriage with his cane. His driver better be sober enough to hear that signal. He would prefer them to depart immediately rather than be detained for a little while because the young viscount Abarai wanted a little chit-chat.

He was not known to be accommodating. Sadly, so was the viscount as the tall man managed to halt his driver's attempts at proceeding.

Impatience bubbling beneath his calm façade, he managed to nod an acknowledgment at the man's enthusiastic greeting. A few years older than his sister, Abarai had known the family since the time he saved Rukia from nearly drowning and sheltered her in his family seat to recover. He came to fetch her within several days, and after that, Abarai had been a constant visitor to their own family seat which was regrettably, only a few hours on horseback from his.

It irked him that the young viscount carried a torch for his sister yet grateful for he had once saved her life, he kept his lips shut and silently dreaded the day he'd call upon him for one specific purpose. The blazing red hair and Scottish brogue (much less pronounced for he had spent most of his years in England) was the least of his reasons for his dislike of the match.

Opening the door, he faced him.

"Your Grace, I wasn't aware you were leaving early."

I fully intended to keep it that way until you came by on another one of your whims, he thought but answered instead, "Naturally, I still have more than a day to cover to arrive at Urahara Kisuke's country house before the morrow."

"I also received an invitation." Renji patted his horse's neck, "I figured that I could arrive fashionably late, but seeing as you are on your way there…"

He thanked the Good Lord for his self-control or he would have closed the door before the other could finish his sentence.

"Would it be too much of an inconvenience if I would go there with you in your coach?"

Tolerate, more like it. He nodded once and a measure of excitement lit Renji's face. The viscount hurriedly rode the short distance to his groom, who was lingering near the townhouse's oak doors. He waited in the carriage, though he couldn't stop himself from looking at his timepiece now and then. Mayhap a few more minutes won't matter.

The carriage rocked a bit as Renji hoisted himself on the seat across from him.

"I hope you don't mind that I left instructions to your groom regarding my horse and that I sent your errand boy for a message to be sent to my valet, Your Grace."

"I don't mind." He tapped on the roof once again and it sent them on a leisurely pace. Disinterested at the sights and sounds of London, he still stared out the window in the hopes of averting any conversation his companion had in mind. He wasn't in the slightest mood for idle chatter.

"Pardon me, Your Grace, but just a few days ago, I went to your family seat. My intentions were to call upon your sister. Instead of being at Bath for the water cures, Lord Ukitake was there."

Knowing what was coming, he faced Renji with a guarded expression on his face and waited for Renji to finish what he meant to say.

"Although, I found that the purpose of my visit was nowhere to be found."

Fixing Renji with a frosty stare, he spoke, "I am not at all certain that has anything to do with you."

The young man's face flushed pink, enough to match the outrageously colored ensemble he was wearing. Wearing the latest fashions and yet being able to look drab in it was one of his many talents. Renji looked too early for Christmas. How he wanted to fling that insult directly to his face and watch as the face went from one shade of red to another. Amusing, to say the least.

"Then pardon my intrusion, Your Grace, I did not intend any disrespect."

He couldn't help but tighten his grip on the ivory head of his cane. The rather calm manner his companion exuded in spite of the flustered expression as opposed to the nervousness he had expected, was foreboding. "What do you know of it, Abarai?"

A deep sigh left Renji's lips. "I must confess, when you said she would stay at your family seat to recuperate from an illness made me concerned and not because I believed it false. A month went by, and her shadow has not touched a single cobblestone in London. It was then that I went to visit her, and found that she has been gone for all that time after speaking to Lord Ukitake. His lordship apparently, was under the impression she was, here, in London for the season."

He knew his face belied the emotions twisting his insides into horrible mush. Byakuya also knew, upon looking at the young man's visage much clearly, that they at least shared the same nightmare. Like maggots burrowing down into their bones, the worry kept them from sleep at night; when sleep did come, dreams were filled with ill visions of death, sickness and the unknown – thinking about it made him ill. The _not knowing _was a torture for someone a step away from their spirit's death.

He had even started praying to a God he had forgotten for so long.

Perhaps it was his own strange way of coping that he wanted everything to look well in the outside. It was his own damned luck that everyone assumed it was.

Not to mention the flurry of scandalous gossip to breach their honorable name once the ton got a whiff of the truth.

"It's been six months." He watched as the shock crept into Renji's face at his reply, "A week into March, she went to the Exchange to buy new gloves." It was for the new gown she was supposed to wear for that evening's ball; he hasn't seen her leave the town house that morning. "She never returned."

_I'm sorry, Hisana._

"That long, I wouldna –" And just like that, emotions overcame Renji and his Scottish brogue slipped through, "Have ye hired some Street Bow Runners, mon? Bloody hell, ye didna tell me—"

"And what more would you have done? I've sent men, in secret, of course, to look for her yet not one had returned any news." Irritation crept into his voice, but he could only offer silent sympathy for Renji.

"Was it a kidnappin'?"

At his narrowed eyes, Renji wisely closed his mouth and swallowed his questions. He could see there was no apology forthcoming for the unbecoming outburst.

"I didn't receive any note for a ransom." At his answer, Renji's face crumpled and his shoulders slumped against the carriage seat. "Why do you ask of this now?"

"I…I did not know how to approach you. The rumors they…Rukia, she—

He held up a hand to effectively stop the stammering. It was clear the young man needed the time to gather his thoughts.

Silence wrapped them in its arms, both too deep in their own thoughts. In their minds, the same questions lingered.

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ

Entering the kitchen, Orihime was surprised to see Elsie, a ten-year old, still cleaning the pots to a shine by the soft glow of an oil lamp. Hesitant should give away her reason of being in the kitchen when everyone has retired, she smiled at the young girl. The little girl's small, thin arms were firmly going back and forth with a small rug over a pot's soot-blackened bottom. Elsie grinned at her in return and gave a small wave of her hand.

"Orihime, what are you doing here?"

Startled, she turned around and saw Rukia behind her. "Oh, Rukia, nothin'. Just strollin' hereabouts…I mean…well…" Could she tell her that she was here because of Kurosaki?

A slender hand settled on her shoulder, "Isn't it too late for you to be out of bed?"

"But you too, Rukia.." She followed her friend into the kitchen, suddenly curious why she was here. The sounds of scraping getting louder as they neared the pantry, she saw Rukia lay out a tray.

"I don't think you have seen Ichigo eat his evening meal, have you?"

She watched, struck speechless, as Rukia proceeded to fully laden the tray with a bowl of vegetable stew, a large chunk of bread, cheese, and a glass of water all of which were seemingly left for her. Moments later, the small tray protested its load when Rukia tried to lift it with both of her hands and the contents threatened to spill. Recovering from her brief shock, she handed Rukia another bigger tray and helped move the food unto it.

Now that his lordship was back, Ichigo wasn't able to join them for meals. She knew that he sometimes skipped them altogether, having too much to do with the imminent arrival of important guests or accounting for things t the manor and the tenants or something else.

Rukia's hands moved swiftly across the air, arranging the dishes in a neat form, and she followed her lead. She wasn't aware Rukia brought him his meals. And just like that, she felt envious of the black-haired, violet-eyed girl and when their hands accidentally touched, she felt burned and found herself drawing back swiftly and avoiding large, questioning eyes.

Rukia took a step back and asked Elsie, "Where are the apples the gardener picked this afternoon?"

The scraping sounds stopped. "But Rukia, those are fer the apple pies tomorrow."

"I only need one," her brows met in contemplation, "or two."

"A'right, o'er there. But you be the one to tell Mr. Tessai why an apple or two's been missing."

Catching Rukia's gaze, she volunteered to get the apple herself and went straight to the basket right where Elsie said they would be. This was probably for Ichigo so she better get the best ones. She chose two apples which seemed healthy to her touch then handed them to Rukia.

Tentatively, she broached the subject. "Are you bringing Ichigo 'is meals?"

Rukia squinted her eyes at the poor light and examined the apples with a critical eye. Nonchalantly, she replied, "Of course." One apple got left out and she heard her mumble, 'too lumpy.'

"Why?" She bit her lip. There was no reason for her to ask.

"I wouldn't let him starve. He's been missing meals lately." At that, Rukia pursed her mouth, reminding her of sour plums and bad weather.

"Let me help you, Rukia."

"That would be lovely but it's alright. Thanks for the offer though, Orihime."

In mild wonder, she watched Rukia carry a meal contentedly out of the kitchen.

"Orihime, what do ye need?" Elsie's voice broke through her thoughts.

"E-eh? I wanted to bring Kurosaki somethin' to eat." The truth came rushing out of her lips. "I see now I didn't need to be worried." She covered the slight embarrassment she felt with a giggle.

"Aye, Rukia's gone and brung 'im meals sometimes." Elsie turned to her with a gap-toothed smile. "Not everytime but she always knows when 'e wouldn't be eatin'. So, Mr. Tessai makes certain there be some food she can take to 'im before 'e turns to bed."

Weakly, she nodded and thought about green-eyed monsters whirring their heads at her. She shook her head; it must simply be the cold getting to her and not jealousy at all.

Right?

Ӂ Ӂ Ӂ

Rukia slipped into his room without so much as a knock and found him on his bed, an open book on his lap. The door was left ajar with the light peeking from where it could.

"You deliberately missed your meal again tonight," her tone accused him and he let out an audible sigh together with a sharp look aimed at her.

Settling the tray beside her on his bed, he stood up a little too quickly and placed both hands on his hips. He warily stared at the person making herself comfortable on his bed, among his pillows and blanket. He frowned. "That isn't part of your job."

"Nor is it the issue. I brought you your meal. Eat."

The shrew was unabashedly looking at his chest. At his _naked _chest. Cursing whoever thought it good to treat him like this, he sat on a stool, the only furniture of his room other than his table and bed, and crossed his legs. Her eyes didn't waver as they continued to burn a hole through him. He might be able to walk the short distance to fetch a shirt, but he won't gamble on that. Curse the idiot who decided tight breeches were the best idea for men's fashion.

"Stop staring at my chest," he gritted out, "and get out of my bed."

"I like your bed," to drive the point home, she grabbed one of his pillows and held it to her bosom. It was difficult to look away and not feel envious of his own pillow – "And don't flaunt your chest if you don't want me seeing it."

He held himself from groaning out loud. There's only so much a man can take. After a stressful day, he didn't have to be subjected to this. "Didn't I tell you to not go into my room, Rukia?"

"And since when did I listen to you? Goodness, you would probably be the only one in history to have died because you forget to eat far too many times."

He glared at her then fixed his gaze at a spot on the wall. Opting to watch the shadows on the wall, he let the sounds of their breathing fill the room. He'd rather let her stew in her annoyance than engage in another word war after going through a long day. Tomorrow, the guests would start arriving and there would be no sufficient reason to wander around and conveniently find Rukia whenever he wanted to. Patience was never one of his virtues and he'd be damned if he'd let himself worry over her for the most part of tomorrow. She can take care of herself. He just wanted to make sure she was doing the best effort at doing it.

Not that it was any concern of his.

His vision slid to the woman languidly draped over his bed. Her eyes were beginning to droop and her breaths were slowly becoming even. Frustration hit him like a ton of bricks. If she felt seconds away from sleeping, why didn't she just sleep and in her own bed? Hell and damnation, he didn't even eat his meal because he knew he would see her and then he'd just start worrying all over again. She must think of him like some prying maniac who thought of her well-being every minute of the day. Unconsciously, he frowned. That definitely sounded too on the spot for his behavior.

The point is she should just start worrying over herself for a change.

"Rukia, go back to your own quarters."

Her eyelids fluttered, yet, she remained lying on his bed. "Ichigo, I told you once. Don't make me repeat myself again. Eat. Then I'll gladly go back to my own bed."

With a smidgen of reluctance he grabbed the bread and hovered it over his mouth, saying, "Just go back to your own bed. It would be inappropriate for me to carry you to your bed like I did the other night." The night he learned that she was, indeed, an aristocrat.

He bit a large chunk from the bread Rukia being subjected to a great deal of ridicule and scandal is what bothered him more. From the little he knew of their lifestyle and most of it came from gossip and columns in the dailies he used to read back in the days, it's what destroyed these people's standing in society. There's no way he would want something like that to happen to her.

He knew he was helpless to do anything about it.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he kept silent but soon stiffened when he felt dainty hands wrap themselves around his naked torso then the warmth of a female body. "Rukia," he growled.

"What?" He could hear the feigned innocence in her voice and a smile itched to lift the corners of his mouth.

"I'm eating, already." His hand found an apple and bit into it much too enthusiastically. From behind him, he felt rather than heard, her low laughter.

"I'm worried." The hands freely roaming his torso stopped and his chewing did, too. It was the first time she had freely voiced out what she felt about her situation. All this time, he had been curious yet he stopped himself when the questions started coming. Waiting for Rukia to open up to him felt like the right thing to do. Now, he felt it was worth it. "Tomorrow, my…my brother would be coming here. I just want to see he how he's doing for myself."

Unbidden, his free hand rose to grasp Rukia's smaller one. She must miss her family. A few years ago, he tore himself from his father and sisters to seek a life for himself from society; this wasn't the same. Someone else had torn Rukia away from hers and forced her to cut all ties. He must be angry but deep inside him, his heart was selfish.

* * *

With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den,

The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion.

Our worser genius can, shall never melt

Mine honour into lust, to take away

The edge of that day's celebration

_-The Tempest_ (IV, i), Shakespeare

Thank you. Please review.


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